


A Damn Train Wreck (working title)

by Saryme



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Gen, Major Original Character(s), No Romance, no romance (definitely not because i have no idea how to write romance hahahahahaahaha), this is going to go great., warning: cursing like a sailor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-10-31 09:30:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17846858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saryme/pseuds/Saryme
Summary: Rated Teen and Up Audiences for profanity





	A Damn Train Wreck (working title)

**Author's Note:**

> my bros. my dudes. welcome to the biggest goddamn trainwreck of a story you will EVER see.
> 
> hahahahahaha but really, this is actually my first time seriously writing anything. i have... not a lot of experience in the area of creative literature so if anyone could give me literally ANY fanfic-writing pointers that would be amazing please and thank you. good luck and don't die of pure cringe

Cassidy first heard the achingly familiar sound while she was reading a book, a tangible paper book, for once, in her sunlit room on the opposite side of the house. Her ears automatically tuned in to the sound, after hearing it nearly every day for the past two and a half years. From her laptop’s speakers, of course...not ever in real life, disappointingly.

Even then, her body responded accordingly. It jumped up, letting the book drop from her hands and fall open on the floor, baking in the heat from the sun shining through the dusty glass window.

Muscle memory allowed Cassidy to navigate the house to the source of the noise. _Bringing hope to all those who hear,_   _or whatever_ , she thought sarcastically, as she did every time her ears grasped the noise. She made her way into the linoleum-clad kitchen, where, on the counter, rested her phone— the source of the sound. She picked up her phone and unplugged it, letting the screen brighten. It showed the caller was just another rando and not, unfortunately, some sort of mystical and/or supernatural being. Cassidy quickly declined the call and dropped it back onto the table, disappointed-- wait, what was she even expecting?

As the teen rounded the corner back to her room, she heard the noise again. She rolled her eyes and spun around on her heel, half-stomping exasperatedly back into the kitchen and snatched her phone up from the tile. Ugh, she just wanted to get some summer work done.

She clicked open her phone, but...there was no caller ID. Strange. That would mean that the weird, unnatural, throat-clearing sound was coming from somewhere else.

Cass sighed and rubbed her temple. Well...it wouldn’t hurt to look. She slightly quickened her pace to get to the kitchen window overlooking the backyard.

Oh.

A familiar blue box was laying on the embarrassingly sunburnt grass. A very...  _large_... blue box. A blue 1950s British Police Call Box, to be exact. The girl blinked a few times simply to make sure she wasn't dreaming (shut up, she only made that mistake  _once_ ). The "PULL TO OPEN" sign, printed exactly where she knew it would be, appeared to be eroding, while the black, probably dirty letters on the "PUBLIC CALL" sign at the top glinted in the sunlight. The lamp seemed to flicker, signalling... probably something unimportant.

This had got to be some sort of present from her mother, although she had been at work all day and this thing had  _definitely_ not been here when the girl woke up. 

She dialed her mom's number, barely looking at the screen, and held the phone up to her ear.

"Hi, Mom."

"Hi, honey, I'm kind of in the middle of something here, is something wrong?" The girl heard the sounds of multiple small, annoying children, distorted through the speaker. She instantly felt guilty for calling at such a horrible time.

"Not really, unless you _didn't_ actually get me an early back-to-school present. A really,  _really_ big one."

"A _what_ \- no--" A baby puking their guts up. "Gross. What do you mean 'a really,  _really_ big one'?"

"I _mean_ there is a life size model of the freakin' TARDIS. In. Our. Backyard." One of the many things wrong with most television protagonists was that they  _never have any fucking common sense_ , which is usually what led them to be killed. "It might be a problem."

"Listen, hon, I don't have time for this. Check again. I'm off work at 5:30, remember? Lunch's in the microwave." One last dramatic, ear-piercing scream, and call ended.

"Wow, nice parenting." Cassidy murmured to herself. That was  _exceedingly_ helpful.  _Thanks, Mom_. She pocketed her phone.

 Wait. This is  _exactly_ how so many seasons started. Cass's eyes widened as she subconsciously counted off the evidence on her fingers. Box showing up out of nowhere: check. Parent(s) ignoring her worried call: check. Now all that was left was to do what every idiot white horror movie protagonist did when faced with the unusual... knock on the door.  _Oh, God_ , she thought, scrunching her face in disgust at herself. She rubbed her temple again.

 _Is it really worth it, Cass?_ questioned the small voices in her head.  _What if they don't want you? What if it's just a mistake?_

 _Fuck you_ , she said to the dickwad voices.  _What if I'm wasting time? You ever think about that? Bitch._

Her feet moved of their own accord. No, she was lying to herself, she was totally in control. Cassidy sprinted down the stairs, grinning wider than she had in a  _very_ long time. She ignored the noon sun on her face as she bounced to a stop in front of the door, digesting the beauty in front of her. Cass scrunched up her nose in confusion as she noticed that the iconic blue was... different than the latest season she'd watched. It was definitely more...  _royal_ blue instead of a _sea_  blue. This must be an older form. Odd.

Cass ignored the detail. She hesitantly moved her left hand forward, then quickly tapped the surface. A few flecks of paint chipped and twirled off in the soft breeze, leaving what looked like normal wood behind it.

Yes, there was always the possibility that this  _wasn't_ actually the real TARDIS and the Doctor _isn't_ actually real (in any universe), but that part of Cassidy's mind was left untouched in the very back of her mind when she tapped the door again, more confidently, and it opened.

**Author's Note:**

> self care is roasting the mean voices in your head
> 
> p.s. i am so so so so so sorry
> 
> p.s.s. also, this takes place between seasons 7 and 7 1/2 before the doctor met clara. however, cassidy lives in early 2019 with us, so that'll be fun ;)


End file.
